


I Don't Do Love Songs

by kingburu



Series: 100 Moments: Teddy and Tommy [1]
Category: Young Avengers
Genre: First Times, Get Together, M/M, Multi, Tommy and Teddy get together without killing someone off, Wangst, minor!BillyTeddy, post-Children's Crusade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 21:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingburu/pseuds/kingburu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>100 LJ Prompts - A series of prompts expressing the pre-beginning, beginning, and ups and downs of Tommy Shepherd and Teddy Altman's relationship together. </p><p>1: 004. Erratic - <i>“It’s this thing about you. It’s really badass—I think about it all the time when I see you. And you’ve got some balls to have it.” A white eyebrow raises in the air, akin to Tommy’s personality as he scans Teddy over. “Huge balls.” </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 004. Erratic

Tommy sounds urgent, although Teddy can’t quite place whether the situation calls for it or if the speedster is simply excited over the phone. He’s a little confused because he can’t remember ever giving the other teen his number (and he grimaces slightly, as that fact comes to mind), but agrees to meeting Tommy. (He gets the phone call at 3:01—approximately one minute after school ends, and from there his thought process turns into an attempt of deciphering Tommy’s fervent speech pattern.)

 

Hoping he heard the address correctly, he rides the subway to their meeting point and searches through the crowd of busy people near 7th Avenue and 14th Street. Of course—you would think a speedster with snow white hair would be easy to spot through a crowd of people. He debates on calling Tommy back, but when he does, gets an automated message.

 

“Hey! Altman!”

 

Turning his head, Teddy—

 

Pauses.

 

The crosswalk sign turns green, and Tommy waltzes across the street at a casual, _human_ pace. He’s dressed in one of Billy’s dark blue v-necks, along with a pair of clean, form-fitting jeans Teddy can’t quite place. Tommy stands tall. His eyes are wide, glittering with amusement as they meet each other, and even his hair is neatly in place.

 

“You…look nice,” Teddy says when he finds his voice. Kate brings it upon herself to dress Tommy occasionally like a human Ken doll, but Tommy doesn’t seem like the type to worry about every day affairs. Every part of his outfit screams Billy’s closet, but the way Tommy carries himself—the way his lip curls, his eyes dart from side to side, his brow raises, his arms move, posture leans, leg stand straight—makes the outfit his own.

 

A grin spreads across Tommy’s face, broad and mischievous. He looks Teddy straight in the eye with more joy than Teddy can take, then crosses his arm and leans to one side—a gesture that without a doubt, is his. “Thanks. Special occasion.”

 

“Special occasion…?”

 

“Yeah. Wanted you here for it.” Tommy’s grin turns into a tiny smirk as he scrutinizes Teddy’s form. In return, the blonde can’t help but feel self-conscious—his casual wear is Tommy’s formal, and in this circumstance, Tommy’s broadness takes Teddy off guard. Usually they bicker over silly things—Tommy thinks he’s too soft, Teddy thinks Tommy is too brash. But it’s their thing.

 

And for the first time since retiring from being a hero, Tommy looks excited.

 

His expression melts, almost humble in Teddy’s presence if not for the way he crosses his arms. Snow white eyebrows knit together with a sense of modesty, and his smirk becomes more of a tiny smile. Watching each and every of these changes slowly, Teddy swallows and smiles back.

 

One of his favorite parts of hanging out with Tommy is when they get along.

 

“I’ll bite. What do you want?”

 

“You know how I think you’re goddamn annoying because you’re a pushover with no real backbone and you’re so fucking nice that everyone else gets cavities over it?”

 

Um. “That’s not—” Teddy frowns.

 

Instead of stopping, Tommy continues, stepping in closer proximity to the blonde. His smile is cheek to cheek, the usual, penchant spark coming to his eyes. It humbles again, the sheepishness returning. “But I mean, there’s good stuff about you too. Duh. That’s why it’s important that _you_ come down here.”

 

“I’m listening.”

 

“I’m serious, Altman. You…have something about you that I like. Um…a lot.” Tommy stuffs his hands in his pockets as though they’re his own. He hunches his shoulders until they meet his ears, and from the corner of his eye, Teddy notices the hard outline of Tommy’s wallet.

 

Sanguine burns in Tommy’s face, and he rubs his (Billy’s) shoe into the ground. Watching this reaction, Teddy can’t help but turn pink himself and stare cautiously at these reactions. “What do you mean?”

 

“It’s this thing about you. It’s really badass—I think about it all the time when I see you. And you’ve got some balls to have it.” A white eyebrow raises in the air, akin to Tommy’s personality as he scans Teddy over. “Huge balls.”

 

“I…don’t know what to say—”

 

“Don’t say anything. Shut up, I’m on a roll.” Tommy grins and jingles his hands in his pants. “I want you…to go out with me—”

 

“Tommy. That’s nice and all, but—” Teddy interrupts the conversation before it can speed any faster. His eyebrows knit together, and he’s sure the surprise and discomfort shows on his face due to the sudden invitation—which, of course, is absolutely Tommy’s thing.

 

What he’s uncomfortable about though, is how his chest flips at the request. With excitement.

 

Tommy splits into a grin too blinding for Teddy and lights up like a kid. He doesn’t acknowledge the look on Teddy’s face, but instead points to a tiny parlor called _Raphe’s Tattoos and Piercings._ “Iwannagetmyhelixpierced. Comewithme?”

 

**xxx**

Teddy has one magazine full of piercings resting on his nightstand in their shared room. He’s made a hobby out of doing his ears since he was fourteen (roughly two years ago) and was looking into getting an industrial piercing once he came by the time and money. The magazine is one of the things Tommy and he used to bicker about when first moving into each other—Teddy once caught the speedster on his bed sifting through it for fun. He had no idea Tommy was actually interested in getting one.

 

He doesn’t ask how Tommy got the money (either Kate or maybe a job—just when Teddy thinks he has a clear reading on Tommy’s actions, the speedster likes to put himself in reverse and steer a different direction.) but watches Tommy light up like a little boy, staring at the types of jewelry they can put in his ear once he gets the helix done.

 

“Are you sure it’s going to stick?” Teddy can’t help but ask. “With your… _gift_?”

 

Tommy turns around, the smile on his lips absolutely child-like. “Won’t know unless I try. Bart says he tried to get a tattoo, but it didn’t stick. If this works, he’s gonna get one in his left ear. I’m getting it in the right.”

 

“Who’s Bart?”

 

“I want a spiral.” Tommy points at the glass. “I’ve been looking at it all morning. Was gonna call you during your lunch or something, but man, you would have been pissed. I’ve been waiting _forever_ for you to get here.”

 

To that, the blonde can’t help but blink in surprise. He looks to his roommate hesitantly, who is too preoccupied with the glass to care. “You were waiting for me to get out of school before you got this piercing?”

 

The speedster snorts, his face morphing. “ _Duh._ ”

 

It takes fifteen minutes before they can go into the room. Tommy hands the permission slip to the man—a guy that looks around the age of nineteen or twenty, with snake bites on his lips. He’s got dark hair with a streak of neon blue in his bangs and a complicated looking tattoo of a bird on his left arm. Tommy flashes a grin—one he used to reserve for cute girls during missions, and Teddy realizes why Tommy’s dressed so nicely.

 

The guy smiles back, equally satisfied as he tells Tommy to lay on the table while he gets a sterile needle and disappears out of the room. Teddy doesn’t even realize he’s frowning until Tommy turns to him.

 

“That’s Raphe. Talked him into lowering the price for me. Nice guy.” Tommy stretches his arms behind his head and looks to the blonde on the other side of the room.

 

Nodding slowly, Teddy watches Raphe’s retreating figure and bites the inside of his mouth. “That’s cool of him.”

 

“ _Definitely._ ”

 

“You sure you wanna do this? Get this piercing, I mean?” Teddy observes the walls of the small room. They’re white, with gray cabinets that remind Teddy of the doctor’s office. It’s a similar place to where he usually goes, if not a little nicer. Frames decorate the walls of various tattoos, along with some rock bands and different sorts of body piercings.

 

“Duh,” Tommy says from the other side of the room. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

“Well...needles hurt. They can’t use a gun because it risks damage to the cartilage.”

 

“Altman, you have like ten on each ear.” Tommy crosses his arms, giving a curious smirk to Teddy’s concern. “Trust me, I’m going to be _fine._ If I ever want a nipple ring, I’ll go to you first and ask about the pain threshold. Fair?”

 

“I don’t have a nipple ring.”

 

“Yeah. But it’d probably look good on me.” The mirth increases across Tommy’s face and he sits up on the table. “Wouldn’t it?”

 

Teddy doesn’t answer the question. The corner of his lip quirks slightly and he rolls his eyes just as Raphe comes back wearing a pair of gloves, a mask, and has a needle in his hand. Raphe offers what he guesses is a friendly smile under his mask and turns back to Tommy. “Ready, Tom?”

 

Tommy smiles eagerly, nearly buzzing on the table. “Ready.”

 

He lies down on one side with his legs straight and palms flat against the surface. Green eyes fixate clearly on Teddy, who halfheartedly smiles back at the giddy teen. Raphe takes a seat in a rolling chair to get a closer look at his current customer, then pours alcohol onto a small cotton ball. He wipes the part of Tommy’s ear very carefully.

 

At the last minute, as Raphe reaches for the sterile needle over the table, Tommy’s arm extends. He wraps a hand tightly around Teddy’s wrist, and nervousness radiates in his gaze. “H-hold my hand?”

 

Teddy stares at it in surprise. Slowly, he maneuvers his hand and intertwines their fingers carefully. Warm flutters between their palms. “Sure.”

 

**xxx**

Ten minutes later, Tommy is staring into the mirror admiring the new decoration to his helix. Teddy’s never seen him stare at his reflection so long. After paying Raphe, Tommy turns around and lights up at the sight of his friend.

 

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” A smirk curls across the speedster’s face.

 

“I think you cut off the circulation in my hand,” Teddy muses.

 

He tries not to chuckle when Tommy blows a raspberry in his face, and inspects the new jewelry carefully. It’s in Tommy’s left ear, looking especially shiny against his pale skin and snow white hair. The color of the bulbs at the end of the earring catches his attention.

 

“Red and black?” he asks. Spirals usually come in the default silver, unless requested differently. He can’t mask his surprise—if Tommy was going to do that, then automatically you’d assume he would get green.

 

For the first time since they met up, Tommy grimaces slightly. He rubs the spiral between his finger nervously—to which quickly, both the receptionist and Raphe advise otherwise from a distance—then shoves his hands in his pockets. Tommy takes a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling, his cheeks suddenly as red as his new insert. “Stature’s colors.”

 

Teddy can’t contain his disbelief.

 

“I…looked into getting tattoos a while back, but I can’t even get something I doodled on my hand to stay more than five seconds.” Tommy’s face blooms with color. “I was thinking— _Iwashoping_ …that…this one will stay. Besides, I liked it. A-And I wanted one anyway!”

 

“Oh.”

 

“‘Oh,’ _what_?” The excitement Tommy’s held overall today disappears in place of terseness, as though in the next few seconds Teddy’s going to call him a dweeb.

 

Instead, Teddy automatically reaches out and touches Tommy’s shoulder. The speedster flinches—as though he’s _waiting_ for something bad to happen, but Teddy can’t help but smile. He looks to Tommy incredulously…. _proudly._ “I like it even better. With the sentimental value, I mean.”

 

Tommy stares at him. “You’re kidding.”

 

“No. It’s a _great_ idea. I think I want one, too. For Vision.” Thoughts of getting the industrial piercing comes back, and he’s itching to browse through his old magazine once they get back to the apartment to see what colors and styles are available. Red, green, and yellow. He wonders if his excitement shows on his face.

 

Suddenly, the speedster turns away and stares at the ground. The color in his face darkens, flourishing across his skin—“You’re, uh…welcome, I-I guess.”

 

—and he blushes, from the bridge of his nose all the way to the tips of both ears.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. 074. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy is used to running; used to depending on his own pace to get him places. Running means looking forward because literally no one can fall into the same step as you; getting to the place of interest is all on you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-CC; supposedly right after Erratic, but could be taken by itself.

The closer they get to home, the less Teddy is listening to the conversation. Instead of conjuring a witty reply, he begins to nod, his eyes fixated with the tall building that holds their apartment. Tommy starts talking louder and switching to the left and right of Altman in hopes to hold his attention, but it’s no use. When they get inside, Teddy drops his backpack on the kitchen table. He walks past the speedster, mumbles a kind _hello_ to the mini-Kaplans, and knocks on Billy’s door.

 

Tommy stands in the middle of the living room, hunched over with his hands stuffed in his pockets. There’s a frown on his face—he’s _not_ pouting. And he’s _not_ sulking. But his eyes remain on Teddy’s anxious form at the doorstep, watching as the blonde’s ear presses against the surface. Teddy knocks softly a second time, and he murmurs words too soft for Tommy to hear. Not that he wants to.

 

Some days, Billy is almost fine, with heavy smiles and a struggle to lift his eyes. He wakes up, dresses himself, and lets Teddy drag him to school so he can make mediocre grades and feel human again. Other days he stays home, buried in his bed with his head between his knees and knotted beneath a blanket so he doesn’t have to see the world.

 

Tommy is the one who convinced Teddy sitting around waiting for Billy to uncoil is pointless. There was fighting, as there always will be when Billy is the circumstance at hand, but Teddy agreed upon going back to school. And as soon as he comes home, Billy is the only thing that matters. The _only_ thing.

 

It takes a whole minute for the door to finally open. The gap is small, with Teddy being the only one to see his boyfriend. Despite himself, Tommy can’t help but walk over in the middle of their conversation.

 

“You okay?” One of them says.

 

“I-I’ve been…fine…really.” Replies the other.

 

“Kaplan,” Tommy interjects, and he appears in front of both of them. Teddy turns his head just slightly, giving Tommy a curious look just as Billy does. “Me and Teddy were gonna get some ice cream later. You wanna come?” He gets a tiny sense of glee watching Teddy turn his head again, to just _see_ how Billy reacts to the request.

 

But then the blonde’s face falls, watching Billy’s contemplative look. Teddy turns his head back, and he shakes his head ever-so slightly. “Rain check, Tommy. I think Billy and I will just stay inside.”

 

For sanity’s sake, Tommy turns back to Billy, his jaw hardening. “You su—?”

 

Teddy interrupts. “We’re sure.” He forces himself through the door, hands secure on either side of Billy, and shuts it behind him.

 

_SLAM._

For a whole minute, Tommy stands there as the sound registers in his head. He stares at the entryway in stun, hardly able to blink. There’s no one to turn to, because the only person he receives consolation from is on the other side of the door. There’s no one to whine to—because how _can_ he?

 

A sour taste burns in Tommy’s mouth as he finally moves. Fine, he thinks.

 

He goes to his shared room with Teddy, barely sparing his roommate’s bed a glance, and throws on his uniform. He lets the energy charge in his legs, along with the rest of his body and stretches his muscles, then springs out of the room like a ping pong ball, angrily letting his footsteps howl against Billy’s door. From his peripherals he watches the mini-Kaplans look up, then zooms down the stairs, letting his pace increase with the wider running scope.

 

People dodge and shriek as they see a green bullet past them across the streets, but they don’t get angry. Tommy is used to running; used to depending on his own pace to get him places. Running means looking forward because literally no one can fall into the same step as you. Getting to that place of interest is _all_ on you.

 

He’s used to it. Used to running by himself before the Young Avengers, _and_ after.

 

Fine, he thinks again. Fine, fine, _fine._

 

 


	3. 028. Ignore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He likes to think that he’s Tommy’s anchor, just as Tommy is his snare gun—the signal in his life that doesn’t fit the norm. The odd thing out that makes him want to turn his head, and tear his attention away when he needs it most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one refers back to Alone and Erratic a little bit--sorry! They get more into being "moments" later on. (:

It’s not that they hate each other. Far from it, most of the time. Since the Scarlet Witch incident, Teddy likes to think their relationship has steered in a better direction. When Billy shuts down, even from him, Tommy is there in need of help. Not for a particular reason—Tommy just _needs_ someone to pull him back. Just as Teddy needs someone loud and abrasive and—most of the time, kind of rude. He likes to think that he’s Tommy’s anchor, just as Tommy is his snare gun—the signal in his life that doesn’t fit the norm. The odd thing out that makes him want to turn his head and tear his attention away when he needs it most.

 

On the Fridays that Billy doesn’t come to school, Tommy waits for him outside the school gate. He stands there unguarded, poking a stick at squirrels and throwing exploding rocks in the air. Most people don’t take notice of the white-haired speedster that’s raising tiny havocs, but Tommy usually spots Teddy immediately. Sometimes he’s holding a to-go cup from the many diners Teddy’s aware Tommy likes to visit, and sometimes he’s reading a book. Tommy likes reading these days—Teddy recognizes most of the titles.

 

Still, no matter what he’s doing, Tommy looks up from his musings and breaks into a grin as they meet eyes. Tommy asks about how school goes, Teddy gives a thorough breakdown. During their conversations they find themselves at the park, where Tommy usually finds a long stick and drags it across the ground—poking birds and benches and some tired dogs before playing _Fetch!_ with the ones that interest them.

 

If Tommy happens to be carrying a book with him one day, he bitches about it.

 

“Percy’s a badass,” Tommy explains as he aligns a trail of rocks together. “Like, Clarisse tries to give him a swirly in the camp toilets and he accidentally makes the water shoot out at her. Cool, right?”

 

“So it’s a good book?” Teddy asks.

 

“Stupid twelve-year-old kids with magical powers accidentally running into trouble. Of course it is.” Then, Tommy grins, an evil gleam shimmering in his eyes. He never breaks eye contact with Teddy, and Teddy never tears away from the conversation. He watches Tommy’s white hair sway back and forth every time he twitches, how Tommy’s hands and feet are always doing something, the curl of Tommy's lips and the glint in his eyes as something new arises, and how no matter what they're doing, Tommy is _always moving._

 

Tommy’s philosophy and the way he thinks always piques a new question out of Teddy, as the speedster tends to offer a new opinion to Teddy’s views—sometimes conflicting, but never offensive. Tommy is surprisingly invested in the politics of things, and never wastes a moment to share his opinion. He hates racing games because he gets too committed in them—and _forgets_ the racer can’t go at his pace, and likes to eat at small/family-owned diners because they always have something cool that another diner doesn’t carry.

 

He once dragged Teddy all the way to New Jersey to try out a store that just opened, and the blonde now has a soft spot for Key Lime Pie at _Uncle Hal’s Diner & Bowling Alley. _

They like to stop by and eat at one of the cafés down a street that’s simply a strip of restaurants. Sometimes they split the meal, sometimes they take turns paying. On the days they do this—the Fridays Billy takes off from school, so the only company they need is each other—they focus on each other, and each other only. No Young Avengers. No Speed, no Hulking. No Kate, Eli, Cassie, Jonas, Billy—

 

Just them. Two teenage boys who forget they usually rub each other the wrong way, talking across a booth or a table about silly things. In this setting, they don’t hate each other, but neither one will admit just how much they _not-hate_ each other and just how much they _kinda-like_ the other. Teddy stops himself from brushing his leg against Tommy’s beneath the table, and Tommy doesn’t reach out for Teddy’s hand.

 

They don’t mention relationship status—sometimes, even forget it in conversation. They don’t label what they’re doing—regardless of what happens, these gatherings are _never a date_ , but they know it’s not just _hanging out._

At the end of the day, they simply pay the bill, slip out of the café with modest space between them and carry on their conversation, knowing the person right next to them is more than a friend. _A brother? A lover? Everything?_ Maybe a little more?

 

The magic has to go away when they get home. When Teddy drops off his backpack to go check on Billy. The Friday afternoon, like most Friday afternoons in the past few months, is pushed to the furthest corner of his mind, and he returns to his lover, holds Billy in his arms at the end of the day, and strokes his hair. He hears Tommy forget the conversation too, as the speedster buzzes on the other side of the door and runs because that’s who he is.

 

That’s why they don’t label it.

 

Why they never ask aloud in the morning, _where are we eating after school?_

 

Why they don’t brush legs.

 

Why they don’t hold hands.

 

Why the smiles never reach their eyes.

 

Billy stays in Teddy’s arms, rocks gently in the bed. He asks how school went, what he missed, what he needs to do, and falls asleep, like he does every day he’s home. He doesn’t ask where Tommy is, what’s been going on outside, or why Teddy’s home later than the rest of the week, so Teddy doesn’t mention it. The day burns in his mind and his throat, but he reminds himself that it was _just_ a walk and _just_ an afternoon lunch. Friends do that.

 

They fall asleep together, buried in the other’s warmth. Billy is tiny in his arms, with a faint pulse since the incident. Teddy buries deep into his boyfriend—tight, until he can hear that heartbeat in Billy’s chest. He would do _anything_ for Billy. And so would Tommy.

 

For the brother. For the lover.

 

So when he wakes up from the nap, with Billy moving at his side, Tommy hands both of them cups full of ice cream—orange sherbet for Teddy, rocky road for Billy. Billy murmurs a thank you, a short smile stretched across his lips, which invokes a smile across Tommy’s own face.

 

Tommy makes a jab at Teddy, and Teddy retorts. All three of them sit in Billy’s room, on the days Billy is gone from school and hiding, and they share the ice cream bought by the (sometimes) friendly neighborhood speedster.

 

And everything’s normal. 


	4. 010. Precious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re the one that wanted to be a hero,” Billy murmurs hesitantly. “I’m just the one that got you out.”

“Can I go running with you?”

 

The question catches Tommy off guard around the dinner table. A spoonful of mashed potatoes hangs out of his mouth, almost dribbling as he looks up from his plate. He’d just finished scooping the part of Teddy’s dinner that the blonde usually scrapes to the side and almost feels like he’s being caught red-handed. Tommy gazes upon Billy’s curious demeanor, which to Tommy’s chagrin doesn’t acknowledge what they’re doing. There seems— _seems_ (he uses the word tightly)—to be no underhanded motivation in Billy’s eyes, but Tommy can’t help feeling perplexed.

 

Billy has his ups and downs. On up days, he’s mostly functioning. _Mortal_ , Tommy likes to think, which he knows is a cruel word to use. Kaplan dresses himself, buttons his shirt one at a time, eats all his food in no real haste, and manages to go to school with Teddy pulling him along. All without magic. On down days, he stays at home.

 

As of lately, the mage in question has more days that are up than down, and his smiles and occasional smirks are genuine. A strange sense of realness accompanies these expressions that Tommy knows will never leave. It’s a tragic conclusion that Tommy wishes wouldn’t have occurred, but he knows it’s a worst idea to mention it than let reality reign silently.

 

Instantly, Mrs. Kaplan lights up, a smile beaming across her face. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. A good way to leave the house and you two can keep each other company.”

 

Tommy’s not quite sure what his face reads—he’s sure it’s something along the lines of, _Are you shitting me?_ but not really in a _good_ way or a _bad_ way. He turns to Teddy, who too has his eyes invested in the conversation.

 

“I think it’s a good idea,” the blonde says. He steals back some of his mashes potatoes and eats them silently.

 

Turning back to Billy, he’s met with the anticipation of an answer. Kaplan and he do things once in a while—Tommy makes ice cream and movie runs at the local RedBox to find something all three of them like. Usually the speedster ends up sitting five feet away from the TV while Billy and Teddy sit on the couch—cuddling, or as of lately on opposite ends (not that Tommy ever points it out—he _knows_ he’s putting too much thought in it.)

 

Strangely, he can’t help but feel flattered. It’s the first time Billy’s asked something of him since proposing they should go find Wanda Maximoff. He raises his head so his eyes meet… _some_ part of Billy’s face (that stupid freckle on his ear and totally not Kaplan’s eyes), drums his fingers against the table, and fidgets.

 

“Sure, yeah. I guess.” Tommy crosses his arms and rests his cheek on his other hand. “What makes you think I go running?”

 

Teddy answers, the amusement clear in his voice. “Because that’s who you are. A _runner._ ” The blonde faces Tommy, more vocal in the conversation than the start. Tommy has to bite his lip to keep from melting in embarrassment because Teddy looks ready to laugh. “You may wake up whenever you want, Tommy, but you always go out running once you’re dressed. Even then, not all the time.”

 

“How would _you_ know? You’re at school most of the time.” Tommy crosses his arms and glares.

 

A cheeky fucking smile curls against Teddy’s lips. He looks up, an eyebrow arched in possibly the worst Tommy-impersonationthat Tommy has ever seen and disperses it with a warm, Teddy-chuckle. “Because I know you.”

 

Tommy bites the other cheek. He massages the inside of his mouth with his tongue, looking everywhere but Billy or Teddy’s face with eyebrows stretched and arched hopefully so they look irritated. Then, he turns his attention back to Billy, hoping that translates as a _talk-to-the-hand_ to Teddy, and stuffs his hands in his ( _Teddy’s_ ) hoody. “Sure. Yeah. Bart and I take the same path whenever he visits. I’ll shorten it.”

 

Billy’s face, surprisingly, animates into something that looks incredibly perturbed. He makes a gesture with his hand. “Like…how much?”

 

“So I’ll have a nice jog and you won’t feel like you’ve just ran a triathlon.” Tommy inadvertently puffs out his chest. The longer they linger on the subject, the more ideas come to mind. He’s going to be running with Billy. Running with _Billy._ And fuck, it’s going to be the slowest, most torturous thing he’s ever had to do, and pretty fucking awesome. “Wanna come, Altman?”

 

He realizes that Teddy is still looking at him, having never turned. The other teen wears a smile on his face, heavy and amused. He shakes his head and looks down at his food. “Maybe next time.”

 

“That’s probably for the best,” Billy says. He cups his glass of water between his hands and inspects Tommy carefully. The solidity of his demeanor rubs the speedster the wrong way, but he knows he can’t do anything about it.

 

Instead, he swipes back the food from Teddy’s plate and rests green beans on his tongue. “You’re going to cry.”

 

Billy snorts. “I doubt it.”

 

“I’m serious. Big tears.” Tommy waves his hand and narrows his eyes. “Running is a man’s sport.”

 

Suddenly Billy laughs—soft and kind of dry. He crosses his arms and looks beneath the table. “Didn’t you just shave your legs—?”

 

“I did _not_ , the razor fell—!” Tommy gapes at the amount of laughter he gets in return. The mini-Kaplans roar, Mr. Kaplan chuckles, and Mrs. Kaplan smiles pleasantly. Teddy, too, who exchanges looks between them. Deflating, Tommy lands in his seat and waves his spoon like a sword. “Fine, Kaplan. Prepare to die.”

 

**xxx**

Tommy asks Billy a dozen times the following morning if the brunet is sure he wants to go running. Billy’s mood is definitely still up and animated, so Tommy is relieved. He’s a little bit nervous of doing something wrong and making Billy’s mood slip—something Teddy assures him most likely won’t happen. The said blonde is still asleep when Billy and Tommy leave that morning. Billy is dressed in a pair of Tommy’s running shorts and t-shirt (there’s a new one, he thinks—Billy borrowing clothes from _him_ ) and has a bottle of water hand.

 

He makes sure to pace the mage—Tommy doesn’t increase his pace unless he’s sure Billy can keep up. Which…doesn’t seem like a problem. Billy seems determined to keep rhythm with him, falling into the same footsteps and staying close behind. Of course, Billy is panting while Tommy tries to keep his mind focused on not bolting down the street like a bullet. They go early so there are less pedestrians and traffic.

 

When Tommy’s not paying attention, Billy manages to catch up, shoulder-to-shoulder. Between breaths, he says, “This…isn’t…half…bad.”

 

Tommy splits into a grin. “You should see what the people look like when I run past them.”

 

Billy sports a wry look—akin to Teddy, but more suspicious and scolding. Tommy kind of likes it. “I’ll…pass.”

 

Tittering at even this speed, Tommy can feel the wind whistling in his ears. “Keep up, and I might just show you my resting spot, Kaplan. C’mon, it’s just up ahead.” Every word he mentions makes him queasy. Billy offers a smile even though he’s clearly struggling. They take a turn into Central Park and keep running through the area Tommy knows with his eyes closed. He doesn’t look behind him constantly once they’re inside—instead, hears the steady steps of the other teen behind him.

 

The closer they get, the bigger the lump grows in the throat. Five minutes later, they arrive at the statue of Vision, Antman, and Stature.

 

Behind him, he hears Billy in heavier breaths. The brunet is crouched over with his hands on his legs, soaked head-to-toe in sweat. Tommy’s stomach tightens. The monument looms over them—gray, sculpted stone with detailed art only the best money could buy. Tony Stark would have no less, of course.

 

The sweat wets Tommy’s palms. He stands erect, short breaths softly rattling from his lips, and curls his hands. In the back of his mind, he _knows_ Teddy’s going to kill him if (when) he finds out about this. He walks carefully to Billy’s side, undoes the strap to his water bottle, and presses the cold container to Billy’s cheek. “Drink some.” 

 

Then Billy looks up. Past Tommy, right at the statue, and the color drains from his face. The next look he gives is as cold as the stone statues. Angry. Hateful. Furious _._ “ _Really_?”

 

Tommy forces himself to look everywhere but Billy’s face. He jerks his shoulder slightly in an attempted response—and then, Billy shoves the bottle back on the speedster’s face, letting the water dribble and explode over Tommy’s clothes.

 

“ _Fuck—_ ” Tommy hisses and shakes off what he can while Billy stomps away. “Hey—get back here!”

 

 Billy turns around and scowls. “I was serious about the running thing. You didn’t have to _turn_ it into some sort of intervention this way.”

 

“I’m— _not._ ” _Zip_ ” Tommy stretches a leg and in an instant, he’s right in front of the brunet—his _brother_ , and grabs at his hand. Forcing himself to breathe, Tommy grabs his brother by both his hands to keep him from doing something stupid. He winces at Billy’s frown and hops between his feet. “Ohmy _god_ Kaplanjuststopmoving—justTHISISN’TANINTERVENTION.”

 

Billy stills. He still looks angry, but more willing to listen. “Then what is it?”

 

Slowly, Tommy breathes and sighs. “This is my jogging route. I take it every day, even in the short version for slowpokes like you.” An ebony eyebrow shoots into the air and Tommy hunches over. “ _Every_ _day_.”

 

In response he gets a fidget, and Billy’s eyes fall to the ground. His face tightens and he looks… _ashamed._

 

“Whoawhoawhoa—“ Tommy forces the other teen to look up, knowing his demeanor looks less than pleasant at the moment. He lets go of Billy’s hands, instead stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Look, whatever you’re thinking—you are _not_ a bad person for not coming as often or whatever, okay?”

 

He wants to curse his luck, since of all times Billy suggests they have a freaky brother-to-brother moment, Billy also chooses to shut down and close off.

 

A sigh escapes his lips. Despite how excited he was—how _cool_ last night went, he dreaded coming as much as he anticipated it. He’s Tommy Shepherd—he makes things _worse._ Everything he runs into is a hurricane of destruction. And a simple thing, like cheering his brother up, doesn’t let compassion fall into step with his notions. Tommy flops onto a nearby bench and stares hollowly at the statue.

 

Gray. Cold. Beautifully sculpted, but despite everything, still very lifeless. It’s strange for Tommy to have a fixation on things that don’t move, but the inertness of the object draws in his eerie fascination.

 

From the corner of his eye, he knows Billy is watching him. And he _hates_ doing this. Hates making himself slow down for everyone else to see him.

 

“You quit being Wiccan. Some part of you still thinks it’s all your fault and that’ll probably never change. And you want to move on with your life. I get it. I really do—” Tommy’s voice cracks and his eyebrows furrow. He slouches with his elbows at his knees and his hands between his calves, and simply stares at the cold carving of Cassie’s unanimated flesh against the heroic pose, and Jonas’s _too_ unanimated pose.

 

Teddy’s right. Running is something that has been innate to Tommy, even before his powers started developing. He was _always_ the troubled kid. _Always_ the guy that skidded away with people after him and the wind in his hair. But without the Young Avengers, he no longer has a place to run _to._  

 

“—this place is…proof for me. I know you think I’m the team psychopath and—you know, pretty much a dumbass for bringing you out here.” Tommy snorts and runs a hand through his hair in mild irritation. “But you getting me out of juvie was one of the best things in my life. And you made it better, telling me you guys were part of this team. And let me _join._ I spent most of my life thinking I was a delinquent, but…Bill, you made me a hero.”

 

He swallows and looks to Billy for a reaction. The other teen has his eyes planted on the monument, lips tight and hand curled on the armrest of the park bench. With much hesitation, Tommy reaches out and nudges his brother in the shoulder. Brown eyes fall to green.

 

“I…I need it,” Tommy mutters, face fallen. “That’s why I run here. I need this proof that we were heroes.” Awaiting Billy’s reaction, he watches the sun cast a light against the statue, illuminating the beauty that was once their friends. There was Cassie’s button nose, and her dainty fingers that grew in size like the rest of her. Vision’s demeanor is somber, but soothing. It stares at Tommy with a hard expression, head raised firmly as though he’s addressing the two of them. The past two months, Teddy and he have come down here to set flowers by the plaque in memory of their friends.

 

“You’re not a bad person. Especially not for taking me here,” Billy finally says. He jerks his head to the large statue.

 

Tommy cocks his head, watching the change in Billy’s expression furtively. Dark eyebrows knit together, the hand nearest to the speedster curling into a fist. Then slowly, it uncoils, picking up the forgotten water bottle on the ground. He takes a cool sip, throat undulating at each swallow, and turns his head.

 

“You’re the one that wanted to be a hero,” Billy murmurs hesitantly. “I’m just the one that got you out.”

 

“Yeah. You’re the one that _got me out_ , you dumbass.” Tommy narrows his eyes. The words are rigid in his throat. “Otherwise I’d still be stuck in one of those stupid cells waiting for someone to come find me while some jerks have fun strapping me to a table and sticking a scalpel into my skin until I _bleed._ You…” _You saved my life_ , he doesn’t say. The words choke, and his nails dig into his palms.

 

For some odd reason, Billy doesn’t respond to that. Tommy’s chest flutters as his brother looks over, that realness in his eyes along with the solidity—but a lot of it, still very much Billy. The other teen runs a hand through his sweaty hair and begins to move; to inspect the statue. “You and Teddy came here last week, right? That’s why you bought those flowers.”

 

The speedster blinks. Recalling the instant, he gathers to his feet and follows after the other teen. “We’re trying to make it a tradition to come out once a month.”

 

Billy stops. The bouquet is still there, neatly wrapped with the bright pink ribbon. The flowers have begun to wither, the vibrant colors fading away to a putrid brown. “You two have been hanging out a lot lately. Teddy and you, I mean.”

 

Um. Tommy blinks.

 

A moment later, Billy turns his head, gaze fixated on the side of Tommy’s face. He reaches out and touches the warm metal in Tommy’s ear with his finger—and suddenly, Tommy cringes. “You took Teddy with you to get that piercing, right?”

 

Uh.

 

“He kept staring at it once you came back. It looks nice on you.” Billy crosses his arms, demeanor tired and calm. An awkward chuckle rumbles from his throat. “When we first started dating, I thought about getting a stud in my ear to match Teddy. But I chickened out at the last minute.”

 

 _Uh._ “Yeah, but…i-it’s not like we’re dating or anything.” Tommy can’t help the stutter in his voice. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and bits the inside of his mouth, eyes wide and brow reaching his forehead. “That’d be ridiculous.”

 

To his surprise, Billy mimics Tommy’s earlier gesture and shrugs before rotating around the statue once more.

 

Tommy follows him. And before he can think about it, he blurts out—“You’d be opposed to it, right?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Me and Teddy dating.” He keeps his voice steady, in case it starts breaking, anxious for the answer. Tommy tugs on his pants, feeling more sweat permeate on his body than before. “You’d be opposed to it. Seeing I’m technically your brother, and Teddy’s your boyfriend.”

 

Billy makes a face. “Of _course_ I’d mind. You’re my _brother_ and he’s my _boyfriend._ ”

 

“Yeah, well—” Tommy swallows hard and taps on his leg. “It’s a crazy idea. I’d never date your boyfriend, and your boyfriend would never cheat on you. So no one needs to worry about something batshit crazy like that.”

 

This time, the other teen doesn’t give him a response. Billy’s hands are curled at his sides and he holds a somber expression as he looks up to the statue. The light catches on his face, highlighting the natural flush on his cheeks and the dull shine in his eyes. Tommy looks away, the gesture too overpowering for him.

 

“That’s the problem,” he hears.

 

“What?”   Then whirls back, confused. “Did you say something?”

 

Immediately Billy shakes his head. He looks back to the white-haired teen, gaze doe-eyed and gentle despite everything today, and a firm smile across his lips. And again, he changes the subject. “Take me with you next time. When you and Teddy visit. Okay?”

 

Tommy blinks. “I…uh. Okay.”

 

The run back to the apartment is filled with plans, for the next time the three of them come together. Nothing else.

 

 


	5. 082. Elephant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Uh…” Teddy blinks. Laying comfortably on his roommate’s bed is a boy—someone who can’t be older than fifteen or sixteen. He’s tan, with stunning yellow eyes and a flurry of tangled brown hair. What sticks out of course, is that bright smile—and the fact the guy in question isn’t wearing a shirt. “Hi?”
> 
>  
> 
> **Introducing...Bart Allen!**

**Prompt:** 082\. Elephant

 

Three to four out of five days out of the week, Billy attends school. The results are better than they used to be—where there would be weeks straight that Billy didn’t go. He’s lucky because of how well he gets along with his teachers, and that even depressed, he manages to pull out passing grades with the makeup work. As of lately without telling anyone his resolve, it takes less effort to pull Billy out of bed and make him go. He smiles more, even if they’re only quaint and silent. On the days he doesn’t go to school, Tommy goes the extra length to make Billy go running with him. The weekends, too—every morning, the pair leave for an hour or two on the same running route and Billy returns with a little more color to his face.

 

So Teddy has a lot more free time to himself. Billy seems motivated to get all of his makeup work done so he can graduate the same time as his boyfriend, and Tommy either spends time with Billy or goes off and does his own thing. Without Teddy.

 

Since the first outing with Billy, Tommy keeps casting him looks—eyebrows knitted together, lips stretched into a thoughtful frown. From his demeanor, Tommy looks as though he _wants_ to say something, but won’t. So instead of confronting him, the speedster busies with whatever he did before…the Thing.

 

It’s their silent agreement—to never comment on who they are. _What_ they are. After all, they’re just friends—if even that.

 

Come the following Friday, he finds out what Tommy does when he opens the door to their room.

 

“Hi!” Shiny grin. “You must be Teddy.”

 

“Uh…” Teddy blinks. Laying comfortably on his roommate’s bed is a boy—someone who can’t be older than fifteen or sixteen. He’s tan, with stunning yellow eyes and a flurry of tangled brown hair. What sticks out of course, is that bright smile—and the fact the guy in question isn’t wearing a shirt. “Hi?”

 

“Here—” Tommy pushes past Teddy toward the boy, a red shirt in hand. He throws it at the teen on his bed and rolls his eyes. “ _That’s_ why you don’t fucking run around Manhattan shaking a can of Mr. Pibb, smart one.”

 

Um.

 

The dark-haired teen pulls the shirt over his tiny body without difficulty and stands on his knees. He pouts—making him look five instead of how old he really is—and crosses his arms. “I _could_ have gone back home. But you wouldn’t let me. You just don’t like the fact I’m _faster_ than you.”

 

“Thatisnotthecase!”

 

“OfcourseitisI’mtotallyfasterthanyou!”

 

“Icouldfuckingkickyourass—”

 

“Tommy?” Teddy’s face contorts. “Who’s that?”

 

“What? Oh.” The said speedster whirls around, the grin still on his face—hyperactive and cheerful. “ThisisBarthe’saspeedster.”

 

Teddy shifts uncomfortably between his feet. “Can you say that…slower?”  

 

Again, the third party in their room lights up. He jumps off the bed, revealing to be a head shorter than Tommy and Teddy themselves, and zips over to the blond. A smile accentuates the boy’s face as he runs circles around Teddy— _three—five—six_ before finally slowing. “I’m Bart Allen. You can call me Bart.”

 

“Uh…hi. Bart.”

 

Immediately Tommy zips toward them, using his powers despite only three feet of distance from them. “Notice anything about him?” On cue, Bart’s eyes glitter and he rocks back and forth on his heels. Sure, the first thought that comes to mind is the guy is awfully cute looking for his age—and by cute, Teddy means _cute._

The gold eyes are striking, with a petite nose and a _loud_ smile. Bart’s clearly got a baby face with expressions that bear a striking resemblance to Tommy’s own—and Tommy’s right. Something about him does seem familiar.

 

Finally Bart simply titters and crosses his arms rather cockily. “I’m Kid Flash!”

 

Wait. Wait, wait, wait.

 

 _“Kid Flash_ ,” Teddy repeats—voice flat and disbelieving. (Of course, that would explain why Bart was able to whirl so fast earlier.) “You mean…the partner of the Flash, member of the Teen Titans located in _San Francisco_ Kid Flash?”

 

Bart beams. “That would be the one!”

 

He would have thought Tommy had simply made another friend with a mutant instead of…well, a meta. Teddy stares at the brunet incredulously, eyes twice their usual size. Okay—wow. He’s finally used to the occasional visits from the Avengers, but meeting the disciple of a _Justice Leaguer_ is just out of this world.

 

Then he remembers what he walked into earlier. Teddy’s eyebrows contort and he turns to Tommy, who looks more concerned with staring at Bart. “That’s…really cool, but…why are you borrowing one of my shirts?” It dangles freely, almost like a dress. Really—the kid can’t weigh more than Teddy’s whole arm.

 

Suddenly, Bart looks up and rolls his eyes just as Tommy snickers. The shorter speedster rocks on his heels, makes gestures with his hands—and just like Tommy, never seems to stop moving. It’s daunting.

 

“He spilled Mr. Pibb on himself because he’s an idiot.” Tommy nudges his shoulder against Bart’s and begins to lean into his weight.

 

“Yeah, but—” Bart lifts up the red shirt, all the way to his collar bone with no change in his expression. A second later, he whirls to Tommy and hums casually. “We were talking about nipple piercings anyway. Might as well have left it off for a little while. Yourhelixisstillprettycool.”

 

Tommy snorts. “Of _course_ it’scoolit’s _mine._ ”

 

“YouthinkIcouldgetaspiralformyleftone?”

 

“IftheymakethoseIbetthey’rehot.”

 

Behind the speedsters, Teddy takes a better look of their room. His side is still neatly made—blanket neat, pillows arranged nicely, and his text books in a tiny fort from last night when he gave up on pre-calculus. Tommy’s side is clustered with an explosion of books Teddy can’t read the name of, along with some comic books, a stuffed teddy bear dressed like Red Robin, and one dressed like Zuko from Avatar the Last Airbender. He notices something else, too. “Is that my magazine?”

 

Bart is the one who cocks his head back to Teddy. He nods cheerfully, shirt still raised. Through his scrutiny, Tommy’s hand is now tracing figures over the other speedster’s bare chest. “We were looking through it! Piercings stay in speedsters! Cool, huh?”

 

“Very…cool,” Teddy says steadily. Now it all comes back to him— _thi_ sis the Bart who suggested Tommy try piercings. Bart’s smile is all too powerful as he turns his head back to Tommy and pushes his shirt down.

 

“Igottagothough. Tim wants me back for a mission. I’llbebacklatekay?”

 

“Yeah, no problem.” Tommy bumps fists with him. Then, Bart reaches up and kisses Tommy on the cheek.

 

Teddy’s throat dries.

 

“See you.” And just like all of his other smiles, this one is overpowering and sweet. Bart offers a mischievous look before jumping on his feet and zipping out of the room. Out of the house, too.

 

It takes a moment, where Tommy is staring off where Bart just stood, and Teddy is awaiting a reaction from his—from Tommy. The lone speedster looks up, hand raising to his wet cheek before he runs a hand through his hair. Green eyes meet blue, and something flickers between them.

 

“He seems nice,” Teddy says weakly.

 

“Yeah.” Tommy’s reply is terse. He sways back and forth, fingers coming to the spiral in his ear, and eyes his bed. “Bart’ll be sleeping over later. Rebecca says it’s okay. He’ll be bunking with me and stuff, so it shouldn’t be a problem. It…shouldn’t be, right?”

 

Bart’s friendly enough. And sweet. Of course it shouldn’t be—but the way Tommy asks, it sounds like he’s seeking permission. Teddy can’t help the _yes_ that swells in his throat. But then, what reasoning would he have behind it?

 

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” he hears himself saying. “That sounds like fun.”

 

 

 


	6. 093. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You think they’ll get married?” Teddy blurts out one Friday afternoon while Billy and he are studying for a test.

Bart and Tommy are in sync.

 

That’s the best way Teddy can describe it whenever he happens on the both of them. It takes a while to decipher because the pair literally speak at a different speed compared to the rest of the world. When Teddy times it right, he realizes they finish each other’s sentences. They lean into each other whenever they have a conversation. They don’t break eye contact. When standing next to each other, there’s just as much use of their hands as there is their feet—usually to animate explosions or to jump off the walls.

 

After the first time Bart visited, he becomes a constant party. Who likes books. Specifically Mark Twain. Whose real name is Samuel Clemens. Bart’s favorite part is a picture he found where Mark Twain had a mustache—which prompts a curious conversation from the shorter speedster what color Tommy’s mustache would be if he grows one.

 

(This all happened in about a minute, when Bart runs up to their room around three in the morning, scares the crap out of Teddy, and asks if Tommy is awake. Tommy reacted by jumping onto his hyper friend. “SorrysorrysorryTimkeptme!” “IT’SFINEIFOUNDADVENTURESOFHUCKFINNONNETFLIX.” “REALLYIBETTHEGRAPHICSAREBAD—”)

 

Teddy has never thought of Tommy as a tactile person. He knows Tommy’s type—the guy with his head held high, fast with comebacks as he is on his feet. It’s ironic to say that the person who slows Tommy down is someone who can keep up with him. Bart, really, is a small looking thing—he’s an inch or two taller than Joshua, Billy’s twelve-year-old brother. Thus, Tommy is blunt as he squeezes into the other speedster’s bubble, arm touching arm, head leaning over shoulder, cheek-to-cheek. They share a chair, so close that it’s surprising Bart isn’t sitting on the taller teen’s lap.

 

Bart even saddles on top of Tommy whenever they’re playing video games, and neither one acts like it’s out of the norm.

 

If this is how they act in a family setting, Teddy only wonders what goes on at the Titan’s Tower.

 

It really wouldn’t be that bad, Teddy thinks, if it were just during the weekend. But Tommy comes home late to dinners during the week with a grumpy frown on his face, runs a hand through his hair as Rebecca asks where he’s been, and reports that he’s been with Bart. Promptly Tommy doesn’t eat—instead he crashes in their shared room, and when Teddy gets ready for bed, the speedster is already wrapped like a burrito and knocked out—all the same books set up like debris after a tornado around Tommy’s mattress.

 

Teddy once picked one up— _Applied Calculus, 9 th Ed. _In pink-gel pen, the words _PROPERTY OF BART ALLEN_ was written on the side. It’s not a surprise—Bart Allen is Kid Flash. He’s attractive, with the _right_ superpowers for Tommy, and from the few yogurt runs Teddy agreed to go to, he knows Bart is very _smart_ too.

 

Admittedly, Teddy’s jealous. Sure, he can change into _anyone_ in the world—but it’s just an image. He’s still himself, and it’s…not Bart.

 

Which shouldn’t bother him. He just… misses Tommy. His speedster. Seeing that joy across Tommy’s face after months of retirement is great. _Painfully so,_ because…because it’s not with him. And having a feeling like that makes Teddy nauseous. He doesn’t _want_ that feeling.

 

Worst of all, he comes to this conclusion after realizing Bart used _his_ pink gel pen to jot his name in the text book.

 

“You think they’ll get married?” Teddy blurts out one Friday afternoon while Billy and he are studying for a test. He sits on the desk while Billy is on the far corner of the room, leaning against his bed with his pencil woven between his fingers and study guide crumpled. Billy probably has more questions answered than Teddy does—he’s yet to even put his name on the guide.

 

Immediately, Billy looks up from his work and blinks. “Um?”

 

“Bart and Tommy. You…think they’ll get married?”

 

“Probably not. California took back their gay marriage rights a while ago. It’s not even legal in Kansas, and I don’t think Tommy even _wants_ to go back to New Jersey.” Um. Wow. Teddy stares at Billy in surprise, but the mage only shrugs. The corner of his lip rises and he fiddles with his pencil in his hand. “I only know this because I walked into the kitchen while they discussed it. Then when I started heating up fish sticks, Tommy rambled about goiter and iodine deficiency.”

 

Teddy’s face scrunches. Sure—Bart’s intelligent. That’s not disputable—Tommy mentioned once that Kid Flash read the entire San Francisco Library under ten minutes once after getting shot in the knee. That knowledge though, comes in random spouts. He’s gotten used to calling it _Speedster Trivia._ “They’re starting to talk like each other.”

 

Billy rolls his eyes. “They’re probably more like long-lost brothers than Tommy and I am. At least he doesn’t eat out the fridge.”

 

“They may be more than brothers.”

 

“He’s nice enough. I went running with both of them once and they didn’t leave me behind.” Billy closes his book and turns around so he’s facing the blond. “Except for the end. But they came back with ice cream.”

 

“And you were okay with that?” A skeptical look falls upon the blond’s face, and he can’t help the frown that accompanies it. His fingers curl against his textbook pages and without meaning to, the study guide falls out of his grip. Teddy curses. After he picks it up and looks back to Billy, he’s met with a chuckle.

 

“You know Kid Flash and Flash are like, Tommy’s _idols_ , right?” Billy moves to the top of his bed and crosses his legs.

 

“Well…I mean…” Rationally that would be obvious—though, Tommy is the type of person who doesn’t verbally announce who he likes or dislikes. Or at least—not very bluntly.

 

“Apparently they ran into each other in like France or something when they both wanted French fries.” Billy makes a gesture with his hand and a (loving) ridiculous face for his brother. “But Flash and Kid Flash are speedsters you heard about on the news all the time for good things. I dunno what Tommy’s up to now, but you’re right, they’re joint to the hip.”

 

“Oh,” is all Teddy can say. Suddenly he looks down to his paper, the wind knocked out of his lungs. It irks him, really—he wishes he’d never asked.

 

A sound erupts down the hall in the room across from Billy’s, with a loud laughter that sounds like Tommy’s and a shout of, “NOFAIRNOFAIRNOFAIR!” that definitely sounds like Bart. Teddy sighs and leans back in his seat.

 

He misses Tommy.

 

“You’ve got nothing to worry about.” Billy interrupts his thoughts, firm smile graced upon his lips and steady look in his eyes. There’s…a twinkle in his orbs—the one that looks pained, but silent. “Tommy likes someone else.”

 

The words hit Teddy like an icy bucket of water. He feels the burn in his cheeks, just as his eyebrows raise high in the air and his lips part, gaze fixated on Billy.

 

On his boyfriend. Who, of the past ten minutes, he’d been speaking about Tommy with in a _more-than-platonic_ aspect. A grimace falls upon his lips and he suddenly can’t look the other boy in the eye. Teddy opens his mouth. “I was just asking—”

 

“I think Tommy mentioned Bart has a boyfriend. If I caught his words right while he was babbling.” Billy cuts him off and stretches over the bed for his text book. Placing his hand on the bind, he turns his head slightly to the right to collect his penci. “He likes hugs though. Seriously, Bart’s always touching something.”

 

Teddy watches each and every one of these actions without a word. Billy moves languidly, with motives to each gesture—to grab his book, to find his pencil, to sit in a more comfortable position. He’s precise and makes no noise as they stare at each other.

 

“I love you,” he hears himself saying.

 

“I love you too,” Billy replies.

 

They go back to their study guides, and not another word is said.

 


	7. .049: Intent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “WannagetIHOP?”

He’s still studying later that night. Teddy returns back to Tommy and his room after Bart leaves—another order by his leader, _Tim_ or something (Teddy wonders if that’s Superboy’s real name)—and spends his time hunched over his math book and trying to make sense of graphing _cosine._ Tommy bursts through the door half an hour later, a frown on his face. Just as Teddy expects, Tommy’s hand bristles through white hair and he looks up to the ceiling at nothing in particular.

 

And in no time, Tommy leaps onto Teddy’s desk, butt flat on text books, legs crossed, and knees jutting out so they’re on either side of the blonde. Dark green eyes stare down at Teddy, a grin split beneath them. Snow white hair flits in different directions, swaying around its pale face and contrasting with the flush in Tommy’s cheeks. Even Tommy’s smile glistens with a pleasant sheen, the moonlight casting a soft glow to his face and shadowing the rest of him.

 

“Uh…” Teddy blinks. “Hi?”

 

“WannagetIHOP?”

 

“What?”

 

Tommy sighs loudly. “Want…to…get…”

 

“IHOP?” Teddy finishes for him, deadpanned. He looks Tommy up and down—just like when he got the piercing, Tommy is dressed more nicely than usual.  He wears a gray beanie to cover his ears, a light red shirt that makes the alabaster of his skin glow more than usual, followed by a dark sweater two sizes too big and a pair of elephant-patterned TOMs.The shoes are usually a dead giveaway when Tommy is up to something. “You’re not…seriously getting that nipple ring, right?”

 

“OhIalreadygotit.”

 

“ _What_?”

 

“Kidding. C’mon, get dressed. I owe you like three AWOL dates, don’t I?” Tommy slides off the desk and readjust the sweater he’s wearing. He toes out of the TOMs in place of a pair of Adidas and does a skip or two to get to the edge of his bed.

 

Teddy watches, still confused.

 

“C’mon!” Tommy rolls his eyes and waves his arms around. “Come on, come onc’mon _c’mon_.”

 

 “Okay. _Okay._ Just… _slow down_.” For no reason other than amusement, Teddy finds himself breaking into laughter. He watches his roommate’s ridiculousness and stands to his feet. Fortunately, he’s still dressed from before. Studying with Billy had become suffocating—once Tommy left their room to join Bart in some other crazy antic, Teddy forced himself to make an excuse to be alone. Lying to Billy makes his chest ache, but Teddy can’t figure out what else to do.

 

“How do you intend we get to—?” A hand coils over his wrist and yanks Teddy forward. He lets out a surprised cry, bare feet dragging across the carpet. In blurs he sees the hallway, the living room, and finally, the door right before it opens. The adrenaline picks up and he topples over—straight into Tommy’s arms. “ _Whoa_!”

 

A livid hand straps beneath his knees while the other one is secured at the small of his back. Teddy wiggles, eyes adjusting to the instant change in pace and he chokes on a gush of air as they go outside. Pressed up against him are Tommy and the scent of pine leaves. A grin spreads across Tommy’s face—its usual cockiness that Teddy would normally scold. This is _definitely_ a scolding moment.

 

Once his stomach can catch up with him. “What the _hell_ , Tommy?”

 

“I’m carrying you. Duh.” Tommy snickers. Then he _looks_ at Teddy and simply…lights up. The demeanor is so poised and natural that Teddy feels his heart skip a beat.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Teddy waits for his stomach, mind, and center of place to catch up with him as Tommy slows down in the parking lot of an IHOP in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma. He groans, hand curled over his abdomen. “I think I’m going to puke.”

 

“Gross.”

 

Teddy rolls his eyes. “You didn’t even bring my—” _Plop._ “—shoes.”

 

“I got everything planned. C’mon. You think I’d bring you somewhere as derpy as Oklahoma without bringing some shoes?” He surprises Teddy again, curling a firm hand over the shapeshifter’s wrist and dragging both of them into the all-night diner.

 

Their seater is a scrawny looking kid, no older than either of them with a piercing in one ear. He looks to Teddy and Tommy and to their intertwined hands, and Teddy can’t help the way his cheeks flare. Regardless, the worker bares a smile despite how late it is in the night and shows them to a two-person booth.

 

Tommy lets go of Teddy’s hand in favor of picking a seat, leaving coldness at the edge of Teddy’s palm. It runs through his veins and naturally he shivers and curls into himself. And again—Tommy surprises him. The speedster stands to his feet, shirks off his sweater, and places it over Teddy’s shoulders before there’s a chance to protest.

 

“Th…Thanks.” Half of Teddy’s mind goes blank. He isn’t sure what to do, watching the usual buzz of Tommy’s hands as they drum the table, feet as they tap against the floor, hair as locks sway, eyes as they fidget from angle to angle—the aspect of Tommy that never stops. The way his face lights up too, is more alluring than usual.

 

When Tommy grins, each corner of his lips raises and the whole world brightens with him. “Don’t be. It’s yours.”

 

Right. On his shoulders, too, the sweater is loose, but a quick look at the breast pocket and stitching assures Teddy that yes, Tommy did take it from his closet. Amusement twinkles in blue eyes and Teddy laughs again, feeling his chest warms. They ask the waitress for their preferred drinks.

 

Slowly, Teddy uncoils the paper binding on his silverware and pulls out his straw. When he looks up, Tommy’s gaze is fixated on him, the usual smile spread across his lips.

 

Tommy’s grin isn’t always arrogant. At times it can be humble, but there is always a hidden quality, almost mocking to his surroundings like he knows a secret that no one else does. It scares Teddy. Annoys him. Makes him want to punch Tommy Shepherd in the face, sometimes.

 

And he likes that smile a lot. The waitress returns with a Dr. Pepper for Teddy and a root beer for Tommy.

 

“Are you gonna make me ask if I have something on my face?” Teddy muses. He puts his straw in his drink, then pushes it toward the speedster. (Just like his food, Tommy isn’t afraid to swipe some of Teddy’s drink when they’re in a public setting. At least this way, no one gets wet.) “Or are you going to make me guess why you dragged me to Oklahoma at two in the morning?”

 

“Please. When have I _ever_ played the guessing game with you?” Tommy waves a hand and snorts. He settles on a knee and allows his free leg to dangle beneath him.

 

Neither of them mentions the incident when Tommy got his ear pierced, but Teddy is sure they’re both thinking it. Just like that time, he watches as Tommy’s stature changes modestly. Tommy folds his hands together, expression morphing just slightly—but enough that he seems perfectly harmless.

 

“So. You know how Bart’s basically been like, living with us the past few weeks, right?”

 

 _He was walking around in your boxers yesterday_ , Teddy doesn’t say. “I didn’t notice.”

 

“He’s been helping me study. I’m planning on getting my GED.”

 

Silence.

 

The words repeat over in Teddy’s head and he stares at Tommy. His eyes widen, blond eyebrows rising to his hairline. Opposite of him, Tommy’s face morphs, clearly embarrassed, but…awaiting Teddy’s reaction. “Really?”

 

In his seat, Tommy squirms, again fidgeting and beginning his ceaseless actions. The red blooms in his cheeks, darker because of the color of his shirt, and it’s painfully beautiful. “Yeah. I mean—I’m taking the test tomorrow. Well, Saturday.” When Teddy doesn’t respond, Tommy continues. “I’ve been talking to Jeff and Rebecca about it, and they’ve been trying to convince me to go back to high school. You know my baggage, Altman. I’m not going back there.”

 

Proving his point without really meaning to, Tommy starts shaking in his seat. Schools make him anxious. They’re too restrained; too closed together and too confined for Tommy to spread his feet. His wings.

 

“So I talked to them _again_ and they brought up the idea of getting my GED. And then Bart mentioned he’s got an eidetic memory and remembers everything he speed-reads. So I tried the same thing. Which—I don’t have, by the way. Still gotta commit things to memory and take all the practice tests and whatnot.” Tommy rolls his eyes. “Such a _bitch._ ButIdidit. Iknowallofthematerialonthetest.”

 

It takes a moment for Teddy to find his voice. When he finally does, he smiles. “That’s…great. Tommy, that’s _spectacular._ Oh my _god_ , Tommy. Does everyone else know yet? Josh and Mikey? Billy?” The excitement revels in Teddy’s voice that that same smile won’t go _away._ Pride swells in his chest, and the news keeps running through his head.

 

Tommy is getting his GED. Tommy is getting his _GED._

 

Tommy plans on getting his GED and…as far as Teddy can tell, Bart and he aren’t together.

 

“Ugh.” Tommy blows a bang out of his face, and if possible, his cheeks turn even redder. He fidgets in his seat and crosses his arms. “Yeah. Billy knows. It was supposed to be a _surprise_ , but you gotta understand, Bart’s a fucking _blabbermouth._ Onmorethingsthanone! AllbecauseBillyaskedtheotherdayifwewereseeingeachother.”

 

“What?” Teddy frowns. The pace of the conversation is too fast for him to read.

 

“Nothing.” Again, the speedster fidgets. He curls his fingers into the table and twitches in the seat opposite of the blonde. “There’s more, though.”

 

“Yeah?” Teddy’s smile is firm. He opens up his menu and his first decision is to buy Tommy a celebratory cheesecake.

 

“I’m going to take the test for my GED. And I’m going to pass it—I know that much.” For a split second, Tommy’s gestures aren’t his own, and he bites his lip thoughtfully, eyes never leaving the taller boy across from him. “The Teen Titans extended an invitation for me. To be a full-time operative and live at the tower.”

 

In that same split second, Teddy’s heart stops.

 

He doesn’t get a chance to recover, because Tommy leans forward in his seat like he usually does when he’s excited and crosses his arms. “Their base is located in Cali. Just like the Runaways. Conner’s a little weirded out having another freaky speedster or something inhabiting the Tower, but they’re cool. Plus, the Runaways live in California, too—I’d be able to see Molly and the gang whenever I want—”

 

“You already do that.”

 

Tommy blinks. “Uh. Yeah. But this way, if I visit them long enough, maybe the Titans will extend an invitation for them too, you know?”

 

Silence. Only half of Tommy’s words make it to Teddy’s ears, while the rest of them fall to the ground, useless and impractical.

 

“Seriously. C’mon, you know better than I do that the Teen Titans do as much good as any Leaguer or any Avenger out there.” Again, the guy splits into a pensive smile, his hands tangled together and the excitement twinkling in his eyes. It’s so powerful that Teddy can’t— _can never_ deny it. “Nico and them do good, too. It’s a win-win for the _both_ of us—”

 

“Tommy.” Teddy frowns, but instead of looking Tommy head on, he stares at his silverware. He’s angry now—but he can’t place who he’s angrier at. Angry at Tommy for even _mentioning_ this or angry at himself because of what he’s about to say. “I thought we were _past_ this.”

 

His words cause a hiccup to Tommy’s speech. He doesn’t need to look up to know that Tommy’s demeanor has twisted—less happy, less anxious, and creeping upon hate. “I’m sorry. Past ‘ _what’_?”

 

“Being the Young Avengers. Being…” Teddy touches his napkin and bites the inside of his mouth. “Being heroes.”

 

Tommy’s jaw tightens and he scowls. Teddy doesn’t need to look up to see Tommy’s face—he just _knows_ that’s what’s happening. “You’re kidding, right?”

 

“Tommy—”

 

“No. _No._ What’s wrong with wanting to be a hero? Wanting to join the Teen Titans and actually _doing_ something with my speed instead of pretending I don’t have it—pretending like I’m _normal_ like everyone else? After _six months_ of us being retired and pretending the Young Avengers never happened, _what’s wrong with it?_ Huh, Altman?” Tommy’s tone dissolves into revulsion and loathing as he snaps.

 

Teddy can’t help but glare. His grip tightens around his silverware. “Because…you know Billy’s—”

 

“Oh my—” Tommy cups the crown of his head and looks up to the ceiling for answers. His gestures are so loud that it’s a surprise he hasn’t gathered attention to himself just yet. The way he looks, too, Teddy knows he’s fed up with this conversation already. “I’m not _talking_ about Billy here, Altman! I’m talking about me! _Me, me, me_! For _me_ to do something for my life—”

 

“Which is _fine_ ,” Teddy grits his teeth. “But Billy won’t be—”

 

“You guys got me out of juvie and turned me into a _hero_. And you think I can actually stay away from that? _You_ , of all people?” Tommy scoffs bitterly. He becomes twitchy and erratic, with no predictable rhythm to it. Usually that’s fine—but he looks ready to be restrained. “I get to get my GED! I get to move on with my life after fucking going back and forth with my parents, after everybody gave up on the Young Avengers—I get to go away, and you—” Tommy’s voice cracks. “Y…you…and Billy get to stay _together_.”

 

 He shrivels in his seat.

 

Teddy’s pulse hastens as he listens to Tommy’s words and his throat clogs. He swallows hard as Tommy suddenly decides to look everywhere but his face. Everything becomes uncomfortable. Nothing is like how it should be—how they should have gone out to one of Tommy’s crazy diners, how they should have talked about different things and debate ideals, how they should have smiled and resisted holding hands, and pretend this wasn’t an evening where they remembered Teddy is dating Billy, and Tommy is Billy’s brother.

 

Everything is wrong, and Teddy wants to throw up for a different reason.

 

He looks down to his crumpled napkin and his silverware, where for some reason he notices the water stains and a leftover piece of chives that is stuck to the edge of his knife. The diner is no longer warm—only lonely, and painful.

 

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispers. His heart aches.

 

For one moment, Tommy looks up, green eyes narrowing before him and lips tight, nearly lifeless.

 

The waitress comes back, oblivious to the two boys argument, with a painfully annoying smile and happy gaze. She asks if they’re ready to order.

 

“I’m not hungry,” Tommy says.

 

 


	8. 056. I know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re in love with Teddy, aren’t you?”

**Prompt:**.056: I know

 

Billy isn’t stupid. He sees the looks, the smiles, the gazes. The frowns that mean more than petty arguments. The secret gazes when no one else is looking, the jokes that only they seem to understand. Even the space between Teddy and Tommy shrinks as time goes by. The yearning in their eyes to hold each other’s hand that makes his heart ache.

 

At first, he isn’t sure what to think. Many of the days he stays at home, dreaming in his safe, blanket cocoon and pretending the world is still while he is secure in his haven. But that was the thing about the world: so long as his heart beats, time moves. So long as time _tiks_ and _toks_ , everyone else’s heart beats, and they move, too.

 

The changes are obvious—blindingly so. Teddy starts smiling at the end of a petty fight, Tommy starts picking more fights. Teddy bails Tommy out of trouble, Tommy gets into more trouble. Teddy comes to Billy’s room less and less—and shows up much later on Friday nights when Billy doesn’t go to school, Tommy at his side, nine out of ten times.

 

Billy doesn’t remember when it started—he only remembers that each time he doubted himself, there were arms around him, protecting him from heartbreak and fear. The arms are still there, strong and firm in grip as they will always be, but the person they have belong to has shrunken. Literally.

 

He’s positive no one else in the family has caught on. If they have, they’ve kept silent like he has. Each day passes where it becomes easier to speak with Teddy at eye-level and there becomes less of a strain on Billy’s neck as they converse. Teddy’s clothes have become looser—and in the past few weeks, Teddy has become accustomed to borrowing clothes from Tommy or Billy. He still looks handsome, with choppy blond hair and a smile that reminds Billy of a puppy, but— _smaller._

 

When Billy notices, he’s tempted to ask, _why the change_ , but he’s convinced Teddy doesn’t realize it. Neither does Tommy. And when he sees them standing next to each other, he understands the _why._

 

They stand as equals. One with a kind heart, the other with anxious feet. One is reckless, the other is patient. Neither is _always right_ , neither is _always wrong_. But they clash until one can be named victor—and it isn’t always the same person. Not ever.

 

So they stand at eye-level, at the same height with opposing opinions, waiting for the other to fall so they can catch them, and their heart beats drum together.

 

The change is too human for Billy to do anything. At first, he feels angry.

 

But then—at second—he doesn’t know what to think, again. The looks they exchange are adoring, but dejected. When the urge arises for them to make physical contact, they suppress it, and the awareness of denial is suffocating.

 

In those instances, the _petty_ is gone from _petty_ fights. Smiles are ghosts—phantom-like, until it’s an intangible thought that has never existed. They become arguments to be angry—to find a way to shout and scream to the world when everything else is supposedly steady. Tommy finds trouble to get away from everything familiar to him, and for a steady beat, Teddy does not lift a finger. Not as a punishment—never, a punishment.

 

But in those instances, Tommy will run like it’s hammered into his system and Teddy will plant himself firm on the other side of Billy’s door, simply a rattled knock away to check up on his boyfriend.

 

When he sees them together, the thought burns in Billy’s head— _They’ll leave me._ And then he thinks, _No, they won’t._

Because they won’t.

 

And at the end of the day, Billy finds himself convincing Teddy (with stubborn difficulty) to search for his brother. Teddy breathes—he lets the air ease out of his lungs and comes back with Tommy in tow. Billy suggests ice cream (this time, Tommy sighs) and they go out together.

 

The three of them—the couple, and the brother who tags along.

 

Exactly seven hours and ten minutes later, the doors of the GED testing center burst open with many testers returning to their loved ones. The hall is humid, with literally tens of people who come and go throughout the day as they wait for the testing to be over. The floor is a boring tan color, reflecting the hall lights that let out a nasally, drawn out hum that mutes the entire corridor.

 

Billy spends the time waiting for his brother at Bart’s side, who is surprisingly patient for the hours that’ve passed. Bart tells every joke he’s ever learned, including from all the joke books in the nonfiction section of the San Francisco Library and manages to get a laugh or two out of Billy. When he didn’t do that, he would give Billy a sly look and a tactless compliment.

 

(Some of the comments even make Billy blush—to which he has to remind himself that Tommy mentioned Bart is seeing someone.) He writes Bart off as honest, yet hopeful. Optimistic, yet truthful. The way Bart looks at people, quirks eyebrows, and flashes a winning smile makes it no wonder that Tommy and he are friends.

 

Slowly, the person they await staggers out of the building, eyes crossed, brow pinched and disgruntled, and hand tangled through white hair.  A crooked frown hangs across Tommy’s face, his pencil dangling in his other hand. He’s as pale as his hair.

 

Before he can collapse, Bart hops to his feet, twitching and moving and going through motions just like Tommy—though his gestures are more boyish, even faster and more natural. He places both hands on Tommy’s shoulders, a special smile on his face, and whispers something in Tommy’s ear.

 

Tommy’s entire face contorts, replaced by an adherent gleam in his eyes and a mischievous smirk. He stands straighter and walks toward Billy. Suddenly, the amusement is shared between brothers. “I’ll know by tomorrow my test results.”

 

“Did it go well?” Billy picks himself up, along with the comic books he brought along to read.

 

Predictably Tommy rolls his eyes, his entire expression wrinkling again. Fortunately, it’s not out of distaste. “Like hell I’m ever going to need the fucking quadratic formula again—”

 

“‘X’ is equal to negative ‘B’ plus or minus the square-root of B-squared minus 4AC—”

 

“All over 2A. Didn’t need it in eighth grade, didn’t need it _now._ ” Playfully, the taller speedster shoves his friend, a smirk curling across his lips. He snorts as Bart blows a raspberry and walks to stand next to his brother.

 

Simultaneously, Bart speeds in after of them, the courtesy of keeping a low profile long forgotten as he slings both arms around their shoulders. His feet dangle at least six inches off the ground, with a glow in his eyes that is nearly palpable. Billy makes a sound, nearly falling over from the sudden weight. “Kon and Tim are waiting for me. Morningrunlikeusual?”

 

“Ifyoucankeepup, you little _brat_.” Tommy, on the other hand, grips Bart by the arm and grins. He hauls Bart over with ease and dangles the boy over his shoulders as though they’re two monkeys in the zoo. Bart cackles, hands fisted in Tommy’s shirt and he’s thrown to his feet.

 

What happens next makes Billy wonder if he’s interrupting a private moment. His curiosity doesn’t normally pique until both speedsters are in the room.

 

Then, even _he_ wonders if Tommy and Bart are dating.

 

They stand together outside the testing center, Bart’s feeble fingers curled at the front of Tommy’s shirt. He looks up, gold eyes mocking and a smirk etching at the corner of his lip. Tommy looks down, white hair dangling amidst the spiral in his ear. He reaches out, a long pale finger brushing back auburn locks before grinning, inspecting Bart for himself. “You got a—you are such a little _asshole_.”

 

“Takesonetoknowone.” Bart steps on Tommy’s toes—literally—and pecks him tactlessly on the cheek before darting off.

 

All the while, Billy watches, amused and silent. He waits until Tommy is snickering like a child beneath his breath and holding his cheek preciously. Tommy’s joy meets Billy’s contemplation and soon, pale white cheeks bloom red.

 

“It’s like—” Tommy makes a gesture with his hand, shoulders high and hands waving too wildly in the air for someone fast on his feet. “If I don’t have a date, and he doesn’t have a date—”

 

“Isn’t he in a long-term relationship with someone?”

 

“I’mspeaking _figuratively_.” Tommy rolls his eyes and taps his feet impatiently on the ground. “I’ve known the guy for ages. Can’t help it if I get a little crazy because he’s someone that goes at my _pace._ ”

 

“I never said that was a bad thing.”

 

“Good.” Silence. “So. Altman didn’t come.”

 

“He sent me a text saying he was planning on taking Mike and Josh to the comic book store.” Billy smiles nonchalantly and stuffs his hands in his pockets. He watches as Tommy’s shoulders hunch and his eyebrows pinch together—a longing flush appearing across his face. Like it always does.

 

Then—“Um. Cool, I guess.”

 

“Things didn’t go very well,” Billy speculates, “when you told him you wanted to become a Titan.”

 

Immediately Tommy looks up as though he’s been caught with a hand in the cookie jar, his eyes wide and face paling until he looks like a ghost. Snow white eyebrows contort together and—as a reactionary instinct, Billy’s eyes are met with an unpleasant scowl. “How the fuck do you know that?”

 

Billy scoffs, and they stop at an intersection with other people waiting to cross the street. “Seven hours with a speedster with the attention span of a gnat, and you expect us to keep on one topic?”

 

For a moment his brother’s demeanor splits as it normally does when Bart is the matter at hand, and the amusement teems in his eyes. “He can recite all the knowledge from encyclopedias A through Z in less than thirty seconds.”

 

“And Mikey can burp the alphabet backwards.” Billy shakes his head and follows the speedster to get to the other street. Before they can go any further, he pulls them out of the crowd of busy people and knots a hand at Tommy’s shirt. “That doesn’t mean he keeps doing it for seven straight hours.”

 

Really—to him, sitting down for the sake of his brother is no big deal to him. Billy’s learned in the following months, just how much Tommy is willing to put out—and put up with him. The way Tommy looks to him now, brow eye beneath his hair with his nose scrunched, he isn’t sure what to say. Instead the white-haired teen stuffs his hands in his (Billy’s) pockets and looks down to the ground. He grumbles beneath his breath— _harshly_ —“You didn’t have to stay that long if you didn’t want to.”

 

“Neither do you, you know.”

 

It only makes Tommy angrier.

 

Somewhere through their discussion, Billy manages to find a park bench. He grabs his brother by the hand like he would do for Mike or Josh, and holds Tommy’s pulse at his palm until they’re dragged into a clearer area. Silence keeps their attention until they reach a destination, and with every step more shame crosses Tommy’s face.

 

Tommy doesn’t want to leave.

 

Doesn’t think he can.

 

“Fucking blabbermouth,” Tommy snaps under his breath, and a roll of curse words leave his mouth animatedly. He curls his hands in his hair, twitches, and does every hand gesture Billy’s seen Bart do in the past few weeks. Beneath all that frustration, he looks ready to dig himself a hole and hide beneath a rock.

 

Irritation knots in Billy’s stomach, for all of the reasons Tommy isn’t thinking of. “When were you going to tell me? Right after my parents and I threw you a congratulatory party? Were we going to wake up in the morning and find your bed empty?”

 

Tommy looks up, eyes flickering solemnly against his heavy frown. It’s exactly what he was going to do.

 

Sometimes, Billy actually knows how Tommy thinks. Sometimes, he knows how Tommy thinks _a lot._

 

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” The vibrato of Billy’s voice stays solid and even, until it reaches a solid crack that commandeers all of his emotions. He takes a steady breath, like Tommy has instructed him to over all of their runs together in the past month, and crosses his arms. “I’m surprised you even stayed this long.”

 

“Really? I have an expiration date?” This time the anger boils loudly across Tommy’s face. He stands up from the bench, matching Billy’s height, and the mage rethinks his comment. Realizes Tommy’s taking it the wrong way. “Contrary to what you may think, I _do_ have feelings.”

 

“I never said—”

 

“You may not realize it, but you’re pretty damn lucky with the family you’ve got, Kaplan.” Tommy jabs a finger at the other teen’s chest, his lips stretched into a furious scowl. “A fucking mom and a fucking _dad._ Two brothers, and—and a boyfriend who would sacrifice the world for you.”

 

“And you,” Billy adds quietly, in stun.

 

“And me—” Tommy halts, like he’s inches away from crashing into a wall. His expression steers off, morphing from anger to surprise to fear.

 

The realization makes Billy feel like scum. It slaps him hard in the face, with eyes fixated on the teen who stands in front of him, and his jaw slackens in hopes to say something, but his thoughts bundle into an awkward ball in his throat.

 

“You’re not staying…because of _me_ , are you?”

 

Tommy says nothing. But his face responds loudly.

 

“Because of…what happened with our mother?”

 

Hesitation flickers in green eyes. Slowly, Tommy nods and looks away as though he’s unworthy of the mage’s attention.

 

Billy can’t help but feel numb. His hands curl to fists at his sides and he stares at every bit of Tommy this time. His brother—always, in his head, his brother. The long face of his brother, with alabaster flesh that glows evangelically with his snow white hair, with the soft trace of worry lines between his brow. They stand at the same height, but in his eyes, Tommy looks smaller than the strident way he carries himself. He’s always seen Tommy—seen the identicalness between them, and what makes them alike as well as what makes them different. Yet for the first time, Billy thinks he _sees_ what makes Tommy, Tommy.

 

Green eyes squeeze shut close, and Tommy sucks in a breath that takes up amicable space and looks like it hurts, before he opens his eyes again.“You’re my _brother_ , Kap—Billy. B. I’m…not good at the whole sibling thing. But I know I’m supposed to protect you. Make sure you’re okay.”

 

“Yeah,” Billy agrees, and his voice is barely above a whisper. _Scum_ , he feels like _scum._ “And you’re my brother. I’m supposed to make sure you’re happy.”

 

His brother meets his eyes.

 

“Are you happy?” he asks.

 

Tommy stares at him as though he’s grown three heads. His head twists to the right—slightly, but it’s too ambiguous for Billy to call it a no.

 

When the train of thought finally circles back to Billy, he can’t help the sour laugh that tickles at the back of his throat. He thinks back, to how this whole mess has started, and wonder how they’ve strayed away so easily. “I didn’t call you out on the Titans thing because I’m _angry_ at you. I’m—” Honestly, he’s a little jealous. But that sore feeling disappears under layers of other emotions he’s come to associate with Tommy Shepherd. Irritation, for not knowing about this decision until now. Lonely, that his brother feels the need to leave.

 

Respect.

 

“I’m proud of you,” Billy says finally. “Look, you may have been the team’s psychopath for what seems like ages, but I had you pegged wrong from the start.” He’s just sad that he hadn’t taken the chance to see that—not until everything boiled down into shit. “You’re out of juvie, made a name for yourself in a good light. And you still want to do that, even after getting your GED. I’m proud. Seriously.”

 

The speedster’s mouth falls open, for once truly speechless in his life. His hands fall limp at his sides and he swallows hard. “We’re not going to hug now, are we?”

 

Shrug. Billy mimics his brother’s gestures, swallowing down all of his feelings in order to keep himself from doing something incredibly stupid. He reaches out, arms spread on either side of him, and stares up into Tommy’s eyes expectantly.

 

It’s probably a good thing—that Tommy doesn’t look from side-to-side before he comes forward and falls into the brunet’s arms.

 

They stay pressed against each other, with twin heart beats pressed against skin. Billy keeps from rolling his eyes, knowing for sure that the shirt Tommy wears is definitely from his own closet. The speedster doesn’t so much as hug him, as he does let Billy wrap his arms around him. They keep their grip tight like little boys, even if it does seem silly. Especially since it’s them.

 

After a moment passes, Billy finally lets the news sink in. The sadness blooms in his chest and ebony bangs mesh with snow white hair. He can’t help but ask—“You’re going to visit, right?”

 

Tommy snorts. “I’m going to need a wardrobe, aren’t I?”

 

What a shit. The mage only laughs back, pulling away when they both know the hug feels too awkward between them, and places a foot of distance from the speedster.

 

“I’ll bring back souvenirs or something. Get Superboy’s autograph. Once I have an in with them, maybe you can even clone his dog,” Tommy muses. Hesitation flashes across his eyes and he looks away, starting their trek back to the apartment complex. “Teddy and you can keep each other company. I…can finally stop dragging myself along with you two. Or. Whatever.”

 

Billy stops in his tracks. His gaze falls to the ground, much like his brother only minutes ago, and his eyebrows pinch together.

 

“Billy.” It’s more of a statement than a question. Tommy whirls around, and in his field of vision, the mage can see the speedster’s feet as they trek back up to him. His voice firms, tone heavy as it has been in the past few months. “Billy—you alright?”

 

“You’re in love with Teddy, aren’t you?”

 

The hand on Billy’s shoulder falls to his side. Billy looks up and he meets the sudden stun in Tommy’s eyes. The other teen doesn’t say a word. Not yet.

 

They stare each other down, but Billy hasn’t ever needed a confirmation. Slowly, Tommy’s head jerks to the right—then the left. His eyes narrow, stature stiffening and standing taller than actually possible for his physique, and his eyebrows pinch together sickeningly.

 

“I—” Tommy’s mouth falls open, clearly running into a wall. He jerks his head again, from side-to-side. “— _no_ , Billy. Just. What…what the fuck?”

 

Every part of the speedster stands tense, until it’s impossible to make him out from a statue. Billy meets his eyes with no hesitation, and he smiles evenly. Sadly.

 

“I’m breaking up with him,” he says.

 


End file.
